Gert. You have robbed me of her, of my child!
Olof. Give her to me, Father Gert!
Gert. Never!
Olof. Is she not free?
Gert. She is my child.
Olof. Are you not preaching freedom? She is mine! The Lord has given her to me, and you cannot take her away.
Gert. You are—thank God—a priest.
Olof and Christine. A priest!
Gert. And as such you cannot marry.
Olof. And if I do?